


Art Under the Stars

by neradia3



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Art Gallery Opening, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Road Trip, Santa Fe, established Rosabel, mentions of rehab, pancakes and chili cherry milkshakes, references to episode 2x08, some fluffy Rosabel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neradia3/pseuds/neradia3
Summary: A few months after Rosa got out of rehab, she is persuaded by Isobel to go to a REAL gallery opening in Santa Fe, and Isobel comes with as her date. Plot twist, Iris is real too.Part one: road tripPart two: the art gallery
Relationships: Isobel Evans/Rosa Ortecho
Kudos: 13





	1. Surprise and Road Trip

The bell attached to the door of the Crashdown dinged, pulling Rosa out of the back room where the various appliances were. The Crashdown closed an hour ago, and Liz had finished up her shift and headed over to Max's for the night. 

Rosa noticed how much she'd been sleeping over there lately, so much that she only really got to see her whenever she came in for her shift. Every day, Rosa waited for her sister up in the apartment above the Crashdown. The conversation between them would last as long as it took for Liz to change into her uniform. Not very long.

Rosa would always say that she missed Liz, especially after not seeing her for two months because she was stuck in rehab. Well, not exactly stuck, but stuck enough that she couldn't see any of her friends or family. She couldn't see Isobel, her girlfriend, which devastated her. She wasn't there for Liz when her father was taken into custody by ICE, among the many other things that occurred while she was gone. Like how her girlfriend was related to her best friend. That on its own was too much for Rosa to process. During her time away, she definitely missed a lot. 

When she would go over to Isobel's, Isobel would fill her in bit by bit of what happened over the two months she was gone. Of course, before Isobel would finish, Rosa's lips would be on her's, her tongue exploring Isobel's mouth. God, she'd missed kissing Isobel Evans. She had missed being in her arms too, a small bear for Isobel to hold as they slept. 

"We're closed!" Rosa called out. "I swear that I locked that door--" She turned, her eyes meeting Isobel's. She was sitting on one of the bar stools at the counter, a soft smile on her lips. Rosa sighed in relief. "Izzie... How did you get in?"

Isobel leaned forward, the soft smile becoming a smirk. "You know I've been getting stronger. I can move things that I can't see now, like unlocking the door to the Crashdown from the outside."

Rosa chuckled. "You know you could've come in when it was actually open. Or, you know, knocked."

"Knocking is boring, and if I wanted to see you while the Crashdown was open, I couldn't. Not when most of Roswell still thinks you're--"

"Okay. I get it. You don't have to explain." Rosa shook her head. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Isobel tilted her head to the side, then reached her hands out towards Rosa, like she wanted to touch Rosa, feel Rosa, simply hold Rosa's hands. But Rosa stayed put, her arms crossed. "There is something that I want to tell you about, but I actually came to pick you up."

"I know how to drive, Isobel. Okay, I've been dead for ten years, whatever, but I'm being careful. Liz said--" Rosa stopped, feeling Isobel's eyes burning into her. It wasn't quite a glare, but it was a look that fueled some kind of emotion. It wasn't anger or annoyance. Maybe it was a "I really don't care, you're coming with me anyway" look. She loved when Isobel was protective of her, worried that other people in Roswell outside of their alien group, aside from Arturo of course, would find out that Rosa was somehow alive. Rosa understood that, but sometimes, she just wished she had more freedom, that she could do whatever she wanted without having to worry about that. "Fine."

"Great! C'mon, now." Isobel gestured for Rosa to come out from behind the counter, which she did, and proceeded to drag Rosa out of the Crashdown and to her car parallel parked on the side of the road. 

The five minutes from the Crashdown to Isobel's house was quiet, which was weird for Isobel because she would usually talk Rosa's ear off the whole time. It didn't really worry Rosa, but it did make it a lot harder for her to focus on something that wasn't her own thoughts. So she turned on the radio and let the different instruments and lyrics bounce through the car's speakers. Rosa hummed to herself, and Isobel eventually joined in even though it was a song that Rosa was sure Isobel didn't know. Isobel's own humming was just a guessing game of what the next note was going to be, and Rosa couldn't help but laugh. 

Upon reaching Isobel's house, the two climbed out of the car and Isobel locked the door. "I'm sorry that I don't know the song, Rosa. I still wanted to hum along, okay?" She searched her coat pockets for her house key.

"It was a good try." Rosa patted Isobel's shoulder. "Maybe next time you'll actually hum the tune right."

Isobel sent Rosa a glare before opening the door. She allowed Rosa to go in first, then following in behind her. Rosa was heading toward the kitchen, but Isobel grabbed her wrist and pulled her in before she could. "Maybe next time, you'll have to guess," Isobel whispered. 

Rosa swallowed, actually feeling a bit intimidated by Isobel, how her voice sounded--raspy, deep, modulated, but hot. She shivered as Isobel's breath hit her ear. "Music is like my religion, Isobel." She nudged herself a bit out of Isobel's arms, but she kept a firm grip of Rosa's waist, and set her hand on Isobel's chest. "Aside from art, of course."

"Of course." Isobel chuckled, then leaned in, capturing Rosa's lips with her own. 

It was slow at first, gentle, but full of desire. Isobel's lips were soft, as they usually were, and tasted sweet--maybe from the last thing she ate. Rosa couldn't tell, and she was too engulfed in Isobel's touch to try to figure it out. But, wow, she was enjoying every second of it. It was like Isobel somehow became an amazing kisser while Rosa was gone, more than she already was. Or Isobel knew what Rosa liked and catered to that. Slow, easy, but deep. Then moving into something more hungry after a while.

Rosa pushed Isobel against the front door, her lips never leaving Isobel's, devouring the hiss that escaped Isobel's throat. Her hands gathered in Isobel's hair, tugging on it a little, but being careful not to hurt her. She knew that Isobel's hair wasn't thick like her own. She had to take that into consideration whenever she were to play with it or pull on it while they were making out. 

Isobel let her hands wander up and down Rosa's sides, eventually finding skin, slipping through the fabric of Rosa's t-shirt. A moan freed itself from Rosa's lips, and Isobel swallowed it, trailing her nails along Rosa's back. 

Rosa bit Isobel's bottom lip before she peeled her lips off of Isobel's. "God," she breathed out, burying her head in the crook of Isobel's neck. 

"Why'd you stop?" Isobel asked, holding Rosa close in an embrace. 

"You wanted to talk to me about something. And as much I love kissing you, I kinda want to know what's on your mind."

"Besides you?"

Rosa chuckled and lifted her head. With her thumb, she rubbed the remains of Isobel's lip gloss off her own lips. She twirled a strand of Isobel's hair between her fingertips. "Yes, Izzie."

Isobel smiled. "Alright." She took Rosa's hand and led her to the couch. They sat down, but Isobel stood back up and hurried to the kitchen.

"Isobel, what are you--" Rosa shook her head and fiddled with her hands on her lap. She wondered why Isobel went into the kitchen. She could have something for her. That could be what she wanted to talk to her about. Some kind of surprise. Whatever it was, Rosa could feel her stomach fill with nerves and some excitement. Her mind buzzed with thoughts, ideas of what it could be. Why it would be in the kitchen and not in the loft or somewhere else more convenient, if the kitchen wasn't already convenient. It could be food. Or Rosa's favorite--a Chili Cherry Milkshake. Did Isobel even know how to make one? Probably not. 

Isobel came back from the kitchen with what seemed like two slips of paper in her hand. They kind of looked like tickets. 

"Are those concert tickets?" Rosa asked, tucking her legs under her, watching Isobel as she sat back down on the couch, closer to Rosa this time. "Izzie, that would be the best surprise ever. I'm craving to hear live music again. And not the occasional local band that plays once a week at the Wild Pony. I can't even go to that anyway."

Isobel tilted her head to the side. "Have I ever told you how cute you are?"

"Plenty, but I'm not sure what that has to do with-- Oh. They're not concert tickets, are they?"

"I'm sorry, baby." She ran her hand through Rosa's hair. "I promise, this is going to be a lot more fun than a concert."

"Even more fun than one for some indie rock band? Maybe my favorite indie rock band?"

"You'll love it." Isobel handed one of the tickets to Rosa. "And it's in Santa Fe so you won't have to worry about not being yourself or being recognized." 

Rosa studied the ticket for a moment, her eyes skimming over the words printed in black and gold. Some words were in bold, like the theme and location. The small description was in gold under the events title--Art Under the Stars. "It's a gallery opening?" She looked at Isobel, a bit of fear in her eyes. The last time she went to a gallery opening, it wasn't even real. Just some drug trip. More like a lucid dream, a dream she didn't even know was a dream until she wound up in the hospital, Liz looking over her. 

"Rosa?" Isobel leaned forward and gently settled her fingertips under her chin. "Are you okay?"

"I'm--" Rosa exhaled. "I'm okay. I don't think it would be good for me to go." She handed the ticket back to Isobel, which she set both down on the coffee table. "I never told you this, but when I passed out from..." She whimpered, and Isobel instinctively pulled her into her arms. "I dreamed of going to a gallery opening. This woman, Iris I think, invited me to it. We kind of became friends, and she um... she helped me realize my potential, what I could've done if I hadn't--"

Isobel pressed a short kiss to her head. "It's okay. We don't have to go if you think it'll be too much for you. I just thought that it would be something fun the two of us could do together, something that you'd love. You're such an amazing artist, Rosa. Being there, seeing all of the artwork done by professional artists, could inspire you. Maybe it might help you decide what you want to do."

"Can I think about it?" Rosa asked, taking Isobel's hand in her own and playing with one of her rings.

"Yeah. Of course. But think quickly."

"Quickly?"

"It's tomorrow night, Rosa. Did you not see the date on the ticket?"

Rosa widened her eyes and looked up at Isobel. "It's tomorrow? And you're only telling me about this now?"

"Hey, easy girl." Isobel stroked Rosa's hair. "I bought them very last minute."

"And what do you consider 'last minute'?"

"Two days ago. It's kinda a long story, Rosa. I mean, I've been wanting to get the tickets since you got out of rehab, but then I kept questioning whether or not you'd actually want to go. But I also thought that it would be good for you to get out of Roswell for a change."

Rosa chuckled and nuzzled into Isobel's shoulder. "It's very sweet of you, Izzie, even though you decided to tell me about it the day before."

"Does that mean you've decided to go with me?" Isobel asked resting her head on top of Rosa's. 

"No." She paused, hearing Isobel whine. "But I promise, I'll think about it and let you know. Quickly, just like you said."

* * *

She said yes. Rosa couldn't wait to finally get out of Roswell. 

And the next afternoon, they were on the road to Santa Fe. The GPS said it was a three-hour trip from Roswell to Santa Fe. This didn't include the possibility of traffic. 

The music low, Rosa leaned her head against the window, her eyes scanning the view outside of it. The "You're Now Leaving Roswell" sign was coming up close. She knew that for sure. She lived her whole life in Roswell, besides the ten years she was inside of Noah's pod, the ten years she didn't even notice pass by. 

When Rosa told Isobel that she wanted to go to the gallery opening, Isobel had to call Liz to get her ok, which with a lot of persuading, she finally did. Liz had said over the phone that she was just worried that people were going to recognize her even though they were going to Santa Fe. Although Roswell was a small town, news still traveled. 

Rosa glanced at the GPS, at how much time they had left to endure being in the car. Two hours and forty-five minutes. It'd only been fifteen minutes? Seriously? "Why did you have to pick somewhere very far from Roswell? Aren't there other cities or towns holding gallery openings that, I don't know, aren't three hours away?" 

Isobel shrugged. "You know, Rosa, if I had the power to teleport, I would use it to get us there in a snap. But I don't. Hey, at least it's just the two of us and we actually tolerate each other."

"I have to tolerate you, Izzie. You're my girlfriend." 

"It's good to know that you don't hate me." Isobel chuckled.

Rosa sighed. "If this is gonna be a long ride, which I know that it will be..." She reached down and unzipped her boots, taking them off. She lifted her feet up to rest them on the dashboard and leaned back. "That's better."

Isobel took a quick glimpse at Rosa before returning her eyes to the road. "Seriously?" 

"Hey, if we're gonna be in the car for three hours, I might as well get comfortable." 

"That's not fair."

"It's not my fault that I'm not allowed to drive because of the very low low chance of getting pulled over."

Isobel rolled her eyes. "You can blame Noah for that."

Rosa scoffed, and her eyes met with the "You're Now Leaving Roswell" sign. Just as the sign said, they were leaving Roswell, and for Rosa, it was the first time she ever left Roswell. She wondered if it was the same for Isobel. Had she ever been outside of Roswell? Or did she always consider Roswell her home, afraid to leave it? Afraid to leave things behind, whatever those things may be. Or people. 

Max and Michael?

Curiosity stood on Rosa's shoulder, poking her. She wanted to know. So did Curiosity. "Have you ever left Roswell, Izzie?"

Isobel must've pressed down a bit on the breaks because the car was going a bit slower now. "No." She shook her head. "I mean, I have for small trips, like to the reservation where Alex's mom grew up, but I've never lived outside of Roswell. Never planned on it anyway."

"Why?" Rosa asked. 

Isobel sighed. "I guess because Roswell is the only place I've ever known. Everything is there for me. My friends, family, work, you. I don't want to lose that."

"I don't want to lose you either." Rosa grabbed Isobel's free hand and squeezed it. "And, I know what you mean. Everything is in Roswell for me too. I don't think I could ever leave. But, if you do ever decide to leave, just know that I'll go with you. Maybe then, I'll actually get to live my life how I want to. No one will know that I died ten years ago."

"You would leave Roswell for me?"

"Yeah. I would. If I didn't, I think I would miss you too much. Now, can you stop going so slow? We won't get there til after four now."

"We'll be fine, Rosa. It doesn't start until six-thirty." Isobel put more pressure on the gas.

Rosa huffed and shifted to get more comfortable in her seat. "I hope you have fun driving, Izzie. I'm gonna take a nice nap." She rested her head against the seat belt. It wasn't comfortable, but it would have to do. 

"You tired?" Isobel glanced at Rosa.

"A little bit. Didn't help that you woke me up crazy early this morning. So unnecessary."

Isobel pouted. "But I made you pancakes."

"Seven A.M. is way too early for pancakes. Even though they were very good pancakes."

"It's my mom's recipe."

"Which one?"

"Rosa," Isobel warned. 

"I'm kidding. Chill, tiger. No need to growl." Rosa yawned, and her hand in Isobel's loosened a bit. "Wake me up when we get there."

* * *

An hour and thirty minutes passed, and Isobel pulled into a gas station. Her car was running low, and she knew that they weren't going to make it with the amount that was left in the car. It wasn't going to last another hour and a half. 

She parked the car in front of a pump and went to open the driver's side door to leave it, but there was a tugging on her hand. Rosa. She looked at the sleeping Rosa and couldn't help but smile. She was so cute when she slept. Peaceful despite her spicy and sassy nature. It was too bad that Isobel had to wake her up or she wouldn't be able to leave the car. 

"Baby," Isobel said warmly, using her other hand to brush her thumb against Rosa's forehead. "You need to wake up for a second."

Rosa groaned. "I'm not letting you wake me up again, Evans," she mumbled. Her eyes were still closed, but she was definitely awake. 

"We're low on gas. My hand, Rosa. You need to let go of it."

Rosa stretched, letting a small whine leave her lips, and rubbed her eyes. "We're not there yet?"

Isobel shook her head and leaned forward, kissing Rosa's head. "Another hour or so."

Rosa took her legs off the dashboard and sat up straight, looking at Isobel. "Well, don't waste anymore time. Fill up the car." She watched her leave the car and shut the door.

Through the driver's side window, Rosa kept her eyes on Isobel as she grabbed the gas pump. But she eventually lost sight of her. She unbuckled herself and climbed into the driver's seat, sitting with her legs tucked under her. She put her hand on the window, seeing Isobel again just standing and watching the number of gallons on the screen go up along with the price. 

Rosa chuckled, admiring Isobel, the woman that she... Did she love her? They haven't been in a relationship for too long, but what Rosa felt for Isobel was way past the "liking" stage. She could say it was in between liking and loving. But how would she know for sure? If she loved Isobel Evans?

She pressed a button on the door, holding it down until the window was all the way down. She crossed her arms on the frame of the window and leaned forward. "Hey, beautiful."

Isobel shot a look over her shoulder towards Rosa at first with a glare in her eyes, but it didn't take long for her to smile, a smile that Rosa couldn't get enough of. She looked around her, making sure that Rosa wasn't talking about someone else, which she knew that she wasn't. "Who, me?"

"Yes, lovely."

Isobel giggled and heaved the pump out of the car. She paid and went over to Rosa. "I don't know. You must be mistaken. I'm sure your significant other is more beautiful than I am."

"Oh, shut up." Rosa reached out and drew Isobel closer. "I'm sure she won't mind." She planted a quick kiss on Isobel's lips, then pulled away slowly with a hum. "She definitely won't mind." 

Isobel stepped back and put her hands on her hips. "But she sure does mind that you're in her seat."

"It's too bad there isn't a line. I would sure love to piss some people off."

"C'mon, Rosa. It's not like we have an infinite amount of time. Move over."

Rosa did as she was told and buckled. Isobel got in the car and rolled the window back up. As she started up the car, the two sat in silence until soft music from the radio filled their ears. Then, they were off again, back on the road, another hour and a half to spend in the car. Another hour and a half trying their best to avoid traffic. Another hour and a half for Rosa to sleep. Maybe. 

But Rosa didn't sleep. They didn't talk for the rest of the ride, Isobel too focused on finding her way through traffic, and Rosa too engulfed in the new scenery, or at least what she could see from the passenger-side window. No more desert. No more desert. Just trees and pretty lights. And eventually, the stars that watched over them through the green. 


	2. Art Gallery and Someone Unexpected

When the tickets said "Art Under the Stars," it actually meant art under the stars. Well, fake ones anyway. Little white dots on the ceiling, ones that reminded Rosa of the ceiling of that laser tag place she and Liz used to go to as kids. She remembered going to a birthday party there. It was Liz's, but she was still allowed to participate. Liz didn't complain. She was at an age where she and Rosa had just gotten close, stopped huge, pointless fights and arguments and moved into sibling bickering. 

But this place wasn't a laser tag arena. No protective walls. No vests that showed whether or not you were out of the game with either a blue or red light, red meaning that you were tagged. No suspenseful music in the background. No screams or gasps. Rosa wasn't a kid anymore, a teen anymore. She was looking at her possible future as an artist. This was where she could be, auctioning or showing off her art in an art gallery just like this one. 

Art was on the walls. Some were frames, some were on canvases. The framed ones seemed to be larger, possibly easier to transport while surrounded in detailed wood squares that would be empty otherwise, the groves and cut of each frame varying between each piece of art. Same with the art itself, like each piece was done by different people. No art style was the same. Maybe if Rosa looked closely, she could tell just by the strokes that two or more pieces were done by the same artist. 

Although Rosa was borrowing Isobel's clothes--she didn't own any nice blouses, just flannels and t-shirts--she felt out of place. Isobel seemed to blend in just fine, but maybe it was because Rosa wasn't wearing her own clothes that made her feel like that. 

The two women that greeted them at the entrance both wore black dresses with skirts that stopped right at the knee. The catering staff, of course, wore their uniforms for whatever company they worked for. Everyone else had their own unique style--not too fancy, not too casual either, something Rosa wouldn't expect from an art gallery opening. She could've gotten away with wearing her own clothes, but wearing a band t-shirt and jeans would've made her stand out like a sore thumb. 

Her arm linked with Isobel's, the two walked deeper into the gallery space, Isobel immediately pulling her along towards one of the many paintings on the wall. 

"Isn't this amazing, Rosa?" Isobel asked, gesturing toward the painting. 

Rosa tilted her head, studying each line made, each stroke. She knew that they all had their own meaning, why their lines were there, marking the canvas, creating a story. The one Isobel dragged her to was splattered with color, but splattered in a way that didn't exactly make it a splatter painting. Lines burst through the color, interrupting them, pulling them away. 

The artist was conflicted about something. There were two sides to each color, one seemed more faded then its other half. From the top of the canvas to the bottom, these bursts of color were growing cooler, reds and oranges to blues and purples. This artist felt warm sometimes, that was a high. Rosa understood, shifting between personalities. The other times, the artist felt cold, forced underground, a side of them they didn't seem to like or want. There were more lines at the bottom than there were at the top of the canvas. 

Rosa felt Isobel's hand rest on the small of her back and practically jumped out of her skin. "God, you scared me." She peeled her eyes away from the painting. 

"Did you forget that I was here?"

"No. Of course not. I guess I was diving too deep into this painting. Over-analyzing it, I mean." 

Isobel smiled, guiding her hand up and down Rosa's back. Rosa didn't know if it was a comforting gesture or something to remind her that Isobel was still behind her. "That's a good thing?"

Rosa hummed in contemplation. "It might be. It just seems like something I would paint or draw. Create. I'm just trying to understand it, you know?"

"Yeah. I know. When I look at a painting or a piece of art, I don't normally think of the meaning behind it. It's nice to get a new perspective," Isobel said. "What are you seeing Rosa?"

Rosa glanced over her shoulder at Isobel, then back at the painting. "A pulling. Tugging. Conflict." She shook her head. "Myself. But how I see it is going to be different from how another artist sees it. How you see it."

"What about this one?" Isobel pointed to the painting to their left. 

Rosa moved to the painting Isobel was pointing to, Isobel following close behind. This one was very different from the previous. Realistic, but at the same time, blurry, like a sponge was used to create it. The girl's future is undetermined, unknown to her, too far away to see it clearly. She still had time to grow, to figure things out. 

Rosa could see herself in this one too. She didn't know who she wanted to be at nineteen, where she wanted her life to take her. It had been messy, and maybe it still was. She knew she wasn't the only Ortecho that didn't have her whole life together. 

Liz still worked at the Crashdown despite her three degrees, but the Crashdown was a family business. It made sense that she worked there. Only if Rosa could do the same. Everyone in Roswell thinking that she was dead threw that far out the window. She still helped out sometimes, like when the diner was closed, but nothing like she used to ten years ago. 

"I see myself in this one too," Rosa told her, then shook her head. "I could just be projecting though."

"Projecting?"

"Yeah. It's like when you're noticing parts of yourself in something that may not be there, but you're choosing to look at it like that." Rosa chuckled. "It's kinda hard to explain. 

"No. I understand what you mean," Isobel said, her hand resting delicately on Rosa's shoulder. 

A sudden clinking noise grabbed everyone's attention in the gallery, including Isobel and Rosa. They turned towards the sound that was coming from the somewhat-center of the gallery. A woman was holding a glass of champagne and a spoon, which Rosa wasn't sure where she could've gotten a spoon from. Maybe there was a cheese platter somewhere? They had those at art galleries, right?

But that wasn't the only thing Rosa noticed. The woman's voice sounded familiar. She'd heard it before. Somewhere. And the more she watched this woman give a speech on how excited she was to have so many people show up to her first gallery opening, the more she started to look like the woman she saw in her dream, the one she believed was real because of how real it felt. 

Iris. 

Shakily exhaling, Rosa started to take a step back, but her foot landed on Isobel's. "Shit," she muttered through her teeth. Luckily, Isobel's shoes weren't open-toed, so she must've not felt it with how quickly Rosa stepped back forward. Well, she didn't say anything about it anyway. 

Isobel brushed her thumb along Rosa's shoulder. "Are you okay?" she whispered to her. 

Rosa nodded hesitantly. "I just... I know her." 

"You know her? The woman speaking right now? Have you seen her around Roswell before...?"

Rosa looked over her shoulder at Isobel. "She's from my dream, Izzie. That's Iris. I swear it."

"Rosa, it was just a dream. She could just look a lot like her."

"And sound just like her too? Exactly the same actually."

Isobel licked her lips and moved her eyes from Rosa to the woman. She'd just finished up her speech, thanking everyone again and saying to enjoy themselves and the art work. "It's not possible, Rosa. You know, the people we see in dreams can only be people that we've seen before. Your brain wouldn't put a face of someone you've never met or seen before in a dream. It's confusing, but it all has to do with memory."

Rosa bit the inside of her cheek, a little frustrated that her own girlfriend was having a hard time believing her. "And suddenly you're the dream expert?"

"I've been doing a lot of research." Rosa gave Isobel a questionable look. "With everything that's going on with Max. We're trying to figure out whether his dream of him being chained to the floor is just a dream or a memory."

"Right. Well, I don't think drug trip dreams are the same as weird alien dreams, or any other type of dream. So this whole 'you can only see the people you've met in your dreams' thing can be shoved away." Rosa cleared her throat, her eyes following "Iris" around, watching her as she talked to some of the other attendees. She wondered if they were artists too. "I think I'm gonna go talk to her."

"Rosa," Isobel sighed, "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"How else am I supposed to find out whether it's her or not? C'mon." Rosa nudged Isobel playfully. "You'll be at my side the whole time in case things get too much for me. Please, Izzie?" She took Isobel's hand and tugged, like a child trying to get the attention of their mom. 

Isobel shook her head, changing the subject. "Let's just move to another painting."

"Really, Isobel? I just want to know if it's actually her or not. You know that not knowing is going to bother me." Rosa crossed her arms. "What harm could it cause, I mean, besides maybe triggering some things..." She looked down at her boots. She must've forgotten to clean them the night before. There were still splatters of paint of them--mostly red and yellow. The other colors couldn't really be seen in the dim-ish lighting. 

Isobel gave Rosa a soft smile. "See? This is supposed to be fun for us, not cause anxiety."

"Okay. Fine. Let's go to another painting," Rosa said, finally giving in. She knew Isobel was right, but there was still something in the back of her head telling her that she should go talk to "Iris." 

Instead, they walked to the next painting over that depicted a beach. Rosa immediately took in the detail, fine and intricate. It would take a lot of talent and concentration to paint something so complex. 

"Wow," Isobel exclaimed, stepping forward to be in line with Rosa. "It's so... beautiful."

Rosa lifted her eyebrows. "You've never been to a beach, have you?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Neither have I. Liz has though. She tells me about it sometimes. Maybe someday, we could--"

There was a light tap on her shoulder, and she turned around. So did Isobel. Right as she saw who it was that wanted Rosa's attention, her eyes widened. She swore she heard Isobel inhale sharply. What was she gonna do now, right? "Iris" came over to her. She couldn't have stopped that from happening. 

"Iris," Rosa said, in a confident, yet worried tone. She couldn't remember whether or not she said her name during her speech. She was too zoned out to pick it out, but she couldn't help but let her "name" slip, at least the name she knew her by from her dream. 

Iris tilted her head to the side. "Do I know you?" 

Isobel and Rosa exchanged a quick look. "We've seen some of the posters hung up around town. We were excited to get to meet you," Isobel said. "I'm Isobel Evans," she held out her hand, which Iris shook, "and this is my girlfriend, Rosa. She's the artist here. Not me."

Rosa scratched the back of her neck and chuckled. "Izzie, please. It's just a hobby. Actually, more like a coping mechanism."

"Just because you use art as a coping mechanism, that doesn't make you any less of an artist," Iris said. 

"Thanks, I guess."

"Well, I just wanted to come over to check on how things are going and to remind you that there are some refreshments." Iris gestured towards a table with various snacks and drinks at the corner of the gallery. There already seemed to be people grabbing cheese and crackers, as well as some wine or champagne. "Thank you for coming, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here. If you have any questions, feel free to ask." She nodded to them before heading over to another small group of people. 

Rosa and Isobel turned towards each other, Rosa watching Iris leave. "Well, shit."

"And I thought only strange things happened in Roswell."

"Oh, so now you believe me. Not a few minutes ago, you said that she couldn't be her because only people you've seen before can show up in your dreams. Hmm, Isobel?"

Isobel chuckled. "Yes. I believe you now. Happy? I mean, by how you interacted with her, it seemed like you knew her. That you've talked with her before."

"You're a sociologist now? First Freud, and now a sociologist? Geez, Izzie. How many different identities are you hiding from me?" Rosa teased. 

Isobel rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Rosa. There's more art calling our names. 

"Okay. Okay." Rosa grabbed Isobel's hand and laced their fingers. "I can hear it loud and clear." They strolled to the next painting, Rosa hesitantly waving over to Iris as they passed by her. She waved back. 


End file.
